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Suspending the rules

I continue my working list of the advantages of leaving youth and ambition behind.

Yesterday, as we celebrated Mardi Gras a little late, someone commented, “The rules are suspended when we get older, and we can get away with doing whatever we want, whenever we want.”

The gravity of that statement sunk in. Does that mean I can wear white shoes after Labor Day? Does it matter that my handbag and shoes don’t match? Does it even matter than our shoes match?

Heck, I challenge you to wear a brown shoe on one foot, a black on the other and walk around with a smirk on your face. If anyone notices, tell them it’s the latest trend from California.

Casual Fridays and jeans for evening wear aside, maybe the rules really are “relaxed” as we age. We’re going to get blamed for mental lapses anyway, why not enjoy it?

So Shirley (the queen of the suspended rule) unapologetically threw her Mardi Gras “to-do” a week late and no one in our “mature” crowd even thought it unusual. We’re hoping she’ll do a Christmas luncheon next month!

Below she doctored up her “Drunken Peach” recipe in their Mardi Gras finest. I thought they were beautiful and they spiced up a very gray and dreary day. Oh, and she served the entire meal on (gulp) plastic! All we had to do at the end of the meal was to lift one end of the table and let it all slide into a garbage bag. No mess, no fuss.